


the meaning behind our actions

by kikurihimes



Category: Ni no Kuni, Ni no Kuni II, Ni no Kuni II: Revenant Kingdom (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Descriptions of wounds, Even when injured Roland is still a good dad, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Blood, Takes Place Sometime During the Main Story, The descriptions of injury etc. are nothing overtly graphic, but the rating/warnings are there just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikurihimes/pseuds/kikurihimes
Summary: One selfless act, and the consequences that followed, was enough to make Roland reflect on his actions, and more importantly; give him the opportunity to ask himself:What did loss mean to him? And what did it mean to those around him?





	the meaning behind our actions

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has not been beta read, so I apologise for any mistakes!
> 
> Also, I started this fic around the time I was still playing Ni No Kuni II and only finished it recently (aka a good few weeks after I got the platinum trophy for the game). So, I'm sorry if any the characters seem ooc, or if there are any inconsistencies when compared to the game.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy reading! <3

It was getting harder to hide.

The pain searing through the length of his arm only seemed to be getting worse as time went on. He grit his teeth to prevent himself from yelling out in agony and alerting the others. They couldn’t delay this quest any further, their time was limited - the moon cycle ever there to remind them of that; like a constant ticking clock that hung over their heads. 

The fabric of his coat rubbed harshly against the wound and he took a sharp intake of breath. He shifted his gaze down to his arm, wincing at the raw gash that covered it. Thankfully, the few leaves of soreaway that he snatched from their provisions had been enough to stop the bleeding. However, the blood had dried alarmingly quick thanks to the medication, so much so that Roland hadn’t been able to wash it off before it had hardened over the wound - amplifying the pain he felt. With each movement, even the most miniscule ones, he could feel his arm crying out in pain as the skin shifted and cracked. If he wasn’t careful, the wound would reopen and his facade would be shattered. More importantly; the quest would be compromised.

He huffed, shaking his head. He couldn’t let that happen. He eyed the provision bag hanging from Batu’s back, blinking a few times to remove the blur from his vision. His eyes refused to cooperate however, his vision becoming unfocused from the delirium of pain, causing him to falter in his footing slightly. His breath shuddered at the sudden shift and he cursed himself internally, hoping the sound hadn’t caught the attention of the others.

Despite wishing to hold up his facade, he paused in his movements and screwed his eyes shut, allowing his mind to clear and breathing to even out. He could feel his arm pulsing from beneath the ripped cloth of his jacket, the blood pumping at a violent rate as it attempted to heal the laceration. The pain was getting sharper with each pulse, as if the pressure was going to tear his wound apart. The feeling was enough to make his mind swim again, his thoughts jumbling together as his breathing became laboured; despite his previous efforts to calm it. He frantically gripped his arm with his other hand, almost as a last ditch effort to quell the agonising pain. 

Suddenly, a pang of nausea hit him like a truck and he found himself stumbling backwards - hitting, what felt like, a stone wall. 

He could faintly hear the sound of hurried footsteps coming closer, followed by the sound of muffled voices. The blood pounding through his ears prevented him from hearing the words being spoken. Or were they being yelled? He couldn’t tell.

Groaning, he forced himself to open his eyes, his vision of the grass swaying violent beneath him. The voices were louder now, and he could feel hands gripping his shoulders. He tried to raise his gaze in order to see the others; to give them assurance, but a sudden, foreign pressure around his injured arm was enough to make him gasp out in pain and send his legs buckling beneath him.

He barely felt the force of hitting the ground, the excruciating ache from his arm overflowing every one of his senses. The distant voices were frantic now, each one overlapping with another almost instantaneously. 

_It’s too loud_ , his mind screamed out. His head felt like it was going to burst open.

He gripped the blades of grass next to him tightly, feeling them ripping from the ground below as he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the noise. 

Then suddenly, all the pain vanished like it had never existed in the first place. In fact, there was no feeling at all. 

He felt numb.

Blearily, he opened his eyes, weakly raising his gaze to meet that of another.

Despite his current lack of feeling, his heart lurched painfully in his chest upon seeing the utterly distraught look upon the young king’s face. Tears were threatening to spill from the boy’s eyes and Roland took another shuddering breath.

“Evan-”

He had barely breathed the boy’s name before he felt a wave of weariness crash over him. And before he knew it, his mind blanked and darkness fell upon him.

* * *

He awoke to an extremely uncomfortable sensation in his arm. On reflex, he tried to tug it away, only to realise it was being pinned down by something.

“I wouldn’t advise doing that if I were you,” a familiar voice chimed in.

Roland simply groaned in reply, his sleep ridden state combined with his muddled thoughts was making his mind swim. Slowly, he forced his eyes open, squinting at the bright light that shone through the window and illuminated the room. 

As he allowed his eyes to adjusting to the light, he took the time to clear his thoughts and piece his memory together. 

He remembered the crying child, a young dogfolk from Goldpaw, who had pulled them over and practically begged for their help just as they were about to turn in for the night. The young boy had told them of the beast that had attacked their merchant group, spoke of the utter chaos and ruin he had witnessed before being sent by his injured grandpa to seek out help. He remembered how his heart sank after hearing the words, the worst case scenario immediately running through his mind even as the young boy pleaded for them to save his family. Sharing a look with the others revealed they were thinking the same.

Regardless, they had accepted the request and immediately set out; any idea of rest pushed from their minds.

And then, there was the ambush that had separated them all. The claw coming down hard on his arm. The searing pain that had immediately followed that had caused him to drop his sword and grip the bleeding limb in anguish. The frantic search for his gun as the beast inched closer. And then the continuous pull of a trigger until his mana had completely depleted and the beast lay dead.

He had treated the wound, albeit poorly, with the limited provisions he had on hand. Thankfully, it hadn’t taken too long to seek out the others and discreetly swipe some medication, hiding his injury all the while.

And then Evan-

His memory suddenly faltered, his brain providing a hundred different thoughts at once. He frowned, his eyes slipping shut again as he furiously tried to connect the missing pieces.

There was a gentle tug on his arm. He looked down, watching as hands slowly and carefully wrapped a clean bandage around his arm, covering the wound. Might as well get the answers his mind couldn’t supply. 

Without looking up, he spoke. “Leander?” 

He winced at how hoarse his voice sounded. Only when he instinctively went to clear his throat did he realise how dry is was, an uncomfortable feeling akin to sandpaper lining it.

“Hm?” Came the brisk reply, the hands continuing their repeated movements without falter.

Roland paused for a moment, deliberating which question to ask first. The burning one at the forefront of his mind was an obvious contender, but...such a question would most likely have the worst result.

No, it was one he would have to ask sooner or later. Delaying it wouldn’t change the answer, not matter how much he hoped it would.

He steeled himself before speaking. “Did we make it in time?” He left his question vague, but it wouldn’t take much for the other man to put two and two together. 

Leander’s movements began to gradually slow before coming to a complete halt. 

The man was silent for a beat too long. 

Fearing the worst, Roland kept his gaze squarely focused on his arm. 

There was an exasperated sigh as the hands left his arm. “I should have known that would be the first question you would ask.” 

Roland heard the man shuffling around before a glass of water was thrust into his peripheral, which he cautiously accepted using his good arm. His throat felt an immense feeling of relief the moment the liquid washed through, however, his mind was still remained muddled. This...wasn’t exactly the response he was expecting. But before he could voice his confusion, Leander was already speaking again.

“But yes, we arrived in time.”

With those simple words, Roland felt the intense weight of an invisible burden being lifted from his shoulders. He moved his gaze to stare up at the other man, not bothering to hide the shock that he knew was clearly written upon his face. His voice came out like a whisper, “Then, the merchants...they’re-”

“Safe,” Leander confirmed, leaning back in the chair he sat on, crossing his arms. “In fact, I believe they are currently being escorted back here by Bracken and the others as we speak.”

Roland frowned. “Here?”

“Goldpaw.” 

That didn’t make sense. “What are we doing in Goldpaw?” He asked as he racked his brain for an answer, which only resulted in making his headache worse than it already was. Groaning, he sat the empty glass down and pressed his hand over his eyes in an attempt to dispel it.

There was a sigh, followed by the creak of wood as Leander reached over to retrieve the empty glass, sitting it on a nearby table. “That would be down to you.”

Roland winced at the harsh tone that accompanied the words. The implication was clear. He dropped his hand from his eyes, moving to fix his gaze on his bandaged arm. He could practically feel Leander’s gaze boring into him.

“So,” the other man spoke, “are you going to explain why you hid your injury from us?”

Roland tightened his good hand into a fist. “I didn’t want to worry you all.”

He didn’t have to look up to know that Leander was scowling. “So you believed it was better to hide it away from us until you couldn’t bear it anymore and we would be forced to notice?”

Roland’s sigh came out shaky as he lowered his gaze. “That wasn’t my intention. I was going to get it treated properly after we had saved those merchants.” _...in secret_. Roland felt it wiser to not include that last part.

Leander didn’t speak.

Roland looked up at the man. He had turned his head away to the side, away from Roland, his eyes focused on the floor beneath them. Roland cleared his throat, mustering as much authority as he could into his voice. “It was necessary.”

“It was reckless.” Leander’s gaze had turned stormy as his head whipped around to face the former president, a deep frown on his face. “What was it? What was so special that you forced yourself to endure such pain like that?”

Flashes of the young dogfolk crying ran through his mind, followed by memories of his own childhood; the bullies, his weakness, his family. Memories of a heartbroken Evan after fleeing Ding Dong Dell, stifling his cries over the loss of his kingdom and guardian during daylight, before letting the sorrow consume and overwhelm him when night fell. 

Those first nights had been the hardest to endure since Roland had arrived.

And seeing the young boy from Goldpaw despairing over his lost family, wailing and begging for help. Well, let’s just say Roland didn’t want to experience a repeat of those nights.

Yet all he could reply with was a weak shake of the head, his eyes lowering until they focused on his wounded arm.

A few moments passed until he found his voice again. “I’m sorry,” were the first words to leave his mouth. Leander said nothing in reply so he continued. “I know what it’s like to feel powerless as a kid - to feel helpless when the ones you love need you most…” 

Roland paused and shook his head, clearing his thoughts before he strayed down the path of sentimentality. “I’ve seen enough families be torn apart for one lifetime. I’ve seen what such a loss does to people. And I know the pain I felt would have been nothing compared to that young boy if we had been a moment too late to save his family.” He closed his eyes, slowly letting his fist relax. “It wasn’t a choice I made lightly...but it is one I would make again.”

He looked up, noting how Leander’s expression had softened into something along the lines of fond curiously. The blond made a small noise of acknowledgement, his attention shifting back towards Roland’s injured arm as he resumed his previous actions of bandaging it. He was silent for a few more beats before he spoke. “ _If_ there is a next time, I hope that you choose to confide in us before you make such a rash decision, so that we can deal with it together.” 

Roland smiled, giving a brief nod. “Yeah.” 

The two fell into a comfortable silence after that. Roland simply content in watching the man work, letting his mind relax as he watched the other’s hands move in a steady rhythm. 

The sound of a door creaking open startled him. He jumped slightly, his arm jostling uncomfortable against Leander’s hands; some of the bandage unwrapping itself as a result. He briefly caught the half-hearted glare Leander sent his way, before his focus moved over to the familiar figure peeking their head into the room. 

Roland felt a new wave of guilt wash over him.

“Leander?”

At the call of his name, the man diverted his attention away from Roland to address the newcomer. “Ah, Your Majesty.” He bowed his head slightly before giving the young king a kind smile. “Did you sleep well?”

Evan nodded his head, stepping a little farther into the room. “Y-Yes, thank you.” The slight hesitancy in his words didn’t bypass Roland. The king gave a weak smile of his own in reply, his hands wringing together nervously. “Um, I just came to ask how Roland…”

He trailed off the moment he locked eyes with Roland, his body becoming rigid as he stared in shock at the older man. 

Seeing the boy’s eyes fill up with tears was enough to make Roland’s gut twist uncomfortably and his heart clench tightly. As much as he wished to look away from the sight, he forced himself to remain steadfast as he offered a small smile. “Hey there, Evan.”

The next few seconds were a blur. He barely had time to register the exclamation of his name before a sudden weight was dropped upon him, a pair of arms wrapping tightly around his neck. He looked down at the mess of blond hair, the ears that sat atop of it tickling his neck as they twitched. “Woah! Evan.” He lay a comforting hand upon the young boy’s back. “Hey…”

The king didn’t reply, only opting to tightening his embrace one last time, before finally letting go and moving back to stand at the bedside. He hastily wiped his eyes using the back of his sleeve, a small flush apparent on his cheeks. It didn’t seem to do much good as a new trail of tears were quick to follow the ones he had just wiped away.

Roland’s smile wavered. “Evan…”

The king just shook his head, furiously rubbing at his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, a weak laugh escaping him. Eventually the tears stopped. He fixed Roland with a warm look, his smile blinding yet watery; like it was going to wither away at any moment. “H-How are you feeling?”

Roland chuckled. “A lot better. Thanks to Leander I presume,” he replied, inclining his head towards the other man. 

Leander’s mouth turned upwards slightly as he heightened his gaze to look at Roland. “I’m afraid I can only take partial credit in this instance.” He turned his attention back to his current task. “After all, it was His Majesty who performed exceptionally well in extracting the poison embedded into the wound.”

Evan flushed at the compliment, ducking his head bashfully. “Ah, thank you Leander.”

Roland’s eyes widened in shock. His wound had been infected with poison? His gaze fell to his bandaged arm. Then again, his wound had been stained an odd maroon colour, but Roland had simply assumed the dried blood that had crusted over and within the laceration had caused the odd shift in colour. His head hit the headboard with a light thunk as he closed his eyes in dismay. Hindsight was both a blessing and a curse.

“It seems you were unaware of the poison’s presence, judging by your reaction.”

Roland nodded, the back of his head rubbing uncomfortably against the headboard. “You would be correct.”

Leander sighed, his expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement. 

Evan, on the other hand, looked positively worried. “What? You didn’t know?” Roland watched as his hands clenched nervously in front of him. “Then...if we hadn’t have found out, you would’ve-”

“Evan,” Roland interrupted, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted was the young boy falling into emotional turmoil thinking of the ‘what ifs’, especially if it arose from Roland’s own inability to take care of himself. “Thinking about what could have been won’t help anyone. What matters is the present, and that everything turned out alright.” He tried to ignore the slight feeling of hypocrisy that crept up on him, considering it was his own actions that had resulted in this in the first place.

Thankfully, Evan had took heed of his words, and the boy nodded firmly in agreement. “You’re right.” He paused, before smiling softly. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Roland’s smile turned apologetic. “And I’m sorry for worrying you.” 

The silence that followed was soon broken by the light ‘snip’ of scissors. Startled, Roland snapped his gaze down to the source of the noise. Oh, it looked like Leander had finished bandaging his arm. 

His co-counsel set the scissors down and inspected his arm one last time. “That should about do it.”

Roland nodded his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Leander.”

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid it’ll take some time to heal. Even with the combined efforts of Evan and myself, our magic can only cure the wound to an extent.”

He hadn’t expected anything different. “We’ll be staying in Goldpaw for longer than intended I assume?”

“I would say a full two days would give it enough time to mend itself.” Leander turned to face Evan. “If that’s okay with you, Your Majesty.”

Evan’s answer was instantaneous. “Of course!” 

Roland shifted, wincing at the slight pain that ran up his arm now that Leander wasn’t keeping it secure. Evan moved to adjust the pillow at his back almost instantaneously. He sent the young king a grateful smile, although there was a slight crease to his brow. “Are you sure that’s alright with you, Your Majesty?” He asked, a hint of doubt in his tone. “Leaving Evermore unattended could cause problems.” 

Evan looked unsure on how to reply. To the side of him, Leander cleared his throat; effectively capturing Roland’s attention. “Not to worry. Batu and his men are available to transport His Majesty to and from the kingdom when required.” A beat of silence passed before he spoke again. “And no, I would not advise travelling on such transport with an injury such as yours. Unfortunately, you’ll have to remain in Goldpaw for the time being.”

Roland offered a small smile of defeat in return. “I trust you’ll be filling in for my position for a few days?”

Leander’s mouth quirked up slightly as he stood, returning the chair to its original place. “Living up to your reputation will prove to be a challenge, but I shall do my best.”

“I expect nothing less,” Roland replied with a content smile, his posture relaxing. Well, that was one worry dispelled. 

Leander gave a brief nod of acknowledgement in reply before making his way over to the open door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must make arrangements with the innkeeper for when the others return.” He turned to look at Evan, smiling. “I trust I can leave Roland in your care, Your Majesty?”

Evan nodded. “Mm-hm! Don’t worry, Leander, I’ll look after him.”

The man’s smile softened briefly before he ducked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Roland barely had time to listen to the sound of his footsteps grow faint before Evan was speaking. 

“Do you need anything?” 

Roland shook his head. 

Evan gave a brief nod in reply before his gaze shifted, his focus drifting around the room.

“Are you alright, Evan?” Roland asked, studying the boy’s distant expression.

“Oh!” The boy jumped slightly, startled. He quickly moved his gaze back to Roland, giving him a small nod and smile. “Ah, yes, I’m fine.” 

Roland hummed in response, the corners of his mouth tugging downwards. The glazed look in the boy’s eyes said otherwise. “Are you sure?”

Before the king could reply, a sudden yawn left his mouth before he could stifle it. Panicked, he turned his head to the side, desperately attempting to mask it as he purposely cleared his throat.

It wasn’t hard to discern the cause of such a reaction. 

“Evan…” Roland scolded lightly, his gaze turning serious. “You haven’t slept?”

The sheepish look on the boy’s face was all the answer he needed. But, before he could reply, Evan was speaking.

“I was just so worried,” he admitted, one of his hands clutching the fabric of his tunic. “Leander assured me that you would be fine but…” Roland winced at the slight hitch in the boy’s breathing. “Every time I closed my eyes, the same image of you…lying there...would appear.” He trailed off, words becoming nothing more than a whisper. “I-It...It was like losing my father all over again.”

Roland’s chest suddenly felt tight as guilt and sympathy began clawing at his heart. Ignoring the pain from his damaged arm, he reached out, placing his good hand on Evan’s head. The young boy jumped at his touch, his watery eyes meeting Roland’s instantly.

“Evan. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.” Roland spoke, his voice collected but warm. “I swear, I’ll stay by your side and watch as you become the king you’re meant to be.” His smile softened. “The king I _know_ you can be.”

Evan didn’t reply, unable to voice any of his thoughts. Instead, he gave Roland a shaky smile and a quick nod of the head. 

Roland grinned, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately. “So, with that in mind, do you think you would be able to get some sleep now?”

He got another nod in reply as the boy used his hands to scrub at his eyes; removing any remnants of tears that threatened to fall. He cleared his throat, his gaze moving to meet Roland’s again. “Yes. Thank you, Roland.”

The heaviness lifted off of his heart as he removed his hand from the boy’s head. “You’re free to use the spare bed here, if you want,” he offered, waving his hand towards the furniture on opposite side of the room. “That way you can still watch over me, and keep your word to Leander.”

Evan glanced towards the empty bed for a brief moment, before voicing his agreement and moving towards it. The boy had removed his cloak and shoes and was about to climb into bed before he turned to face Roland with a curious look. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” He couldn’t stifle the yawn that escaped at the end of his words, or the subsequent blush that followed after.

Roland couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “I’m positive,” he answered, shuffling in his own bed to get comfortable.

Evan seemed content with the answer as he simply climbed into the bed; head hitting the pillow instantly. 

Roland winced at the complete feeling of fatigue that emanated from the boy. He could only imagine the nightmares Evan had faced in sleep. His brain provided such scenarios not a moment later, and his heart lurched painfully. Loss wasn’t something he wanted Evan to grow accustomed to.

Of course, he also didn’t want to shield the young boy away from the concept entirely. Who knows how many soldiers they would lose in future battles. How many generals they would watch run blindly into battle, only to be cut down in the same breath. Even the townsfolk, who strayed away from battle, could be bested by the many viruses that plagued the lands.

And...Roland’s own fate at the end of this journey was perpetually unclear.

Evan had seen enough travesty; far more than he should have at his age, and had the pain of it all affect him directly with no holds barred. Yet, he still didn’t show that weakness to his people. He kept it all hidden behind a strong face and unwavering will. 

Despite knowing his strength, Roland still worried. He worried that, combined with the pressure of running a kingdom, one day the boy would face more loss than he could handle and-

“Good night, Roland.”

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt. He turned his head towards the source of the voice, simply watching as Evan gave him a warm smile; the boy’s eyes shining despite his exhaustion, before he closed his eyes and tucked himself under the covers; falling into the realm of sleep.

Roland couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face. He chuckled weakly, shaking his head at his previous doubt. He knew Evan’s capabilities, the young king excelled in the responsibilities that came with such a title. When it came to heartbreak, he allowed himself to grieve, but he would never falter; he would push himself past the pain and honour the feelings of those lost, using those wishes to grow ever stronger.

Still, Roland would there to offer the boy support and comfort if the struggle ever grew too large for him to move past on his own. After all, that was his job as chief counsel. And also, it was his own personal wish to see the young boy he had grown to care for like his own son, continue to be strive and be happy.

Roland closed his own eyes, smiling.

“Good night, Evan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Any kudos and comments are appreciated~


End file.
